


Under control

by SerahSerah



Series: Unexpected aspects of unexpected journeys [4]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Cock Rings, Humiliation, M/M, Orgasm Control, PWP, Premature Ejaculation, Seduction, Unresolved Sexual Tension, slight D/s
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-29
Updated: 2014-02-01
Packaged: 2017-11-22 21:16:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/614419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SerahSerah/pseuds/SerahSerah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bilbo and Thorin struggle for control - in more ways than one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Enfuriating creatures

Hobbits, and this one hobbit in general, Thorin mused, had to be the most infuriating creatures in all of middle earth. They were small, soft and rather simple, absolutely unsuited for fighting and life in the wild, let alone for important quests against dragons, no less. And yet Gandalf, who did have a reputation for being proven right at the end of the day, had insisted upon his importance. So if Gandalf thought that Bilbo was so useful, Thorin thought, why did he not deal with the annoyance that accompanied his presence?

Thorin did realise that it might be too much to ask that the wizard suffer through the same things he currently had to deal with, seeing as that mainly had to do with mounting sexual frustration, but Thorin was not feeling reasonable. Not only had it become apparent that almost half of his company had taken to staring at the halfling in quite inappropriate ways, which had in turn led to Thorin keeping an eye on Bilbo to stop him getting in even more inappropriate trouble, which had then led to Thorin noticing far more about Bilbo than was a good idea.

Now, when he looked at him he no longer saw a useless and weak burden to his company, he saw small soft hands, surprisingly nimble and almost delicate, and an unruly mop of blond hair, permanently tousled, so that Thorin repeatedly caught himself thinking about patterns to braid it in. A soft face, completely hairless, with kind eyes and a sweet smile, and Thorin wanted to smack himself, thinking of a smile as sweet. Strangely large, hairy feet, always bare, seemingly impervious to rough underground. Dwarves always wore heavy boots, and for all his hardiness Thorin would not fancy walking barefoot over jagged rocks and through thorny underbrush. And perhaps worst of all, a small, round and delightfully firm backside that Thorin could hardly take his eyes off whenever it was in front of him. When riding in column Thorin had taken to riding up and down beside it ever so often, checking with his company, but recently more often to check a certain arse, spread across a saddle.

To his satisfaction, Thorin had found that at least he could cause some confusion to the hobbit in turn. He discovered that if he stepped close enough, made his breathing heavy and deepened his voice, he could make the little body shiver and the quiet breathing stutter and stop.  
And then that one night, when he thought that everyone was asleep, Thorin had finally given in to the persistent ache in his groin and touched himself, only to find that not only had the halfling been watching him, but had also touched himself in response. And now Thorin knew how Bilbo's breathing sounded when he came. The trouble he was in could hardly become deeper.

Thorin was on a quest to regain everything that had ever meant anything. Its importance could not be overstated, as it would determine the future of his entire lineage. He could not do with any distractions, everything depended on him having his wits about him. Though he did have to admit, albeit grudgingly, that that was no longer the case when we was constantly trying to keep his hands to himself (and off himself, when possible) at night and sometimes during the day as well. He had never been in a situation so thoroughly ridiculous and inescapable.

And then there was that night in the cold, where they had all lain together, and some madness had stopped Thorin from placing himself as far away from Bilbo as he could. In fact he had very soon found himself with that accursed backside pressed against his groin, and as its owner had started sighing and wriggling in his sleep, something in Thorin had just snapped. And now he had a memory branded into his mind that he found completely impossible to get away from. Because it was also branded into his skin, all his senses and his cock. The small body, supple and warm, smelling of sleep and lust, utterly powerless in his grip, grinding and shaking, clamping down on him, sobbing helplessly and coming wetly over his hand.

But Bilbo, even more infuriatingly, had apparently decided to refrain from even the slightest comment on the incident. Which was just as well really, seeing as this gave him the opportunity he needed to back out of the whole affair. What a dismal choice of words. But still, all he had to do was not look at Bilbo, stop himself decisively every time he started to think about him, and smack every dwarf that looked at the hobbit funny. Possibly with his axe.


	2. Seduction

Now the company was in greater trouble anyway. Orcs on wargs, a crazy wizard and a chase in the wild. And on top of all that, elves. Thorin was pretty certain that this day could not get any worse. By the time evening fell and Thorin had found his chamber, he was well and truly tired and fed up with pretty much every race of middle earth.

The room the elves gave him was pleasant enough, for their standards. The bed was large and soft and the walls where actually solid wood with normal sized windows. The door was not as heavy as Thorin would have liked, but it did at least have a latch. This was the first time he would be able to sleep in privacy in quite a long time, and he knew that he would be making all possible use of this, even if he planned to get out of the elven country as fast as he could. He hoped the walls where perhaps somewhat soundproof.

He had just taken off his armour and his boots when there was a knock on the door. “What is it?” he called out in irritation. It was getting late, surely whoever could wait till tomorrow? Instead of an answer, there was just another knock. Grumbling to himself, Thorin stomped over to the door and tore it open with a scowl. Before him stood the hobbit, only dressed in thin linnen underclothes and smelling strongly of some flower scented soap, his hair combed back neatly. He was trying to smile, but it was obvious that he was also fighting a very bad case of nerves, which turned it into somewhat of a grimace.

For a moment, Thorin froze. He had thought that Bilbo was really going to ignore what had happened, but here he was now, freshly bathed, barely dressed and looking up at Thorin with some measure of trepidation. “What do you want?” Thorin barked at him. “I just came to talk, seeing as we have a bit of time right now” Bilbo answered, and somehow the way he tried and failed to make his answer sound smooth got to Thorin even more. Well, he rationalised, at least some amusement could be had by discomfiting the hobbit, so he moved aside and let Bilbo enter.

As soon as Bilbo had stepped inside, Thorin made a point of closing the door with a slam, making him jump. Thorin smirked slightly and started stalking toward Bilbo again like he had that one evening in the woods. Only this time, Bilbo seemed to be ready for it. With a smirk of his own, and before Thorin could stop him, he raised his arms above his head, rose up on his toes and smiling lasciviously gave a long and luxuriant stretch. Thorin stopped in his tracks, seeing the hobbits undershirt ride up, revealing a pale and supple back, an invitingly soft, nicely rounded belly and worst of all, this position made the muscles in his arse tense, making it even firmer and rounder.

And with that, Thorin had had enough. With an angry growl, he closed the remaining space between himself and the hobbit, grabbed him hard by the upper arms, and backed him against the chamber wall, growling all the way. Once there he hesitated briefly, not entirely sure what he wanted to do, before he threw all good sense out of the window and just crashed his mouth against Bilbo's.

Bilbo did not seem as surprised as he should have been. Being seized like that he did not protest, but just let himself be pushed against the wall, and when he got there and had Thorin's mouth on him, he came alive again. Both his arms flew up, one hand gripping hard at Thorin's shoulder and the other burying itself into his hair in an attempt to pull Thorin closer to him, at the same time opening his mouth and trying to kiss back. Thorin had no intention of letting Bilbo have any control in that kiss however. For all the weeks of being teased, all the nights lying awake dreaming of this, all the impure thoughts and physical reactions at bad times, this was his payback. So without letting Bilbo do anything, Thorin just stuck his tongue into the hobbits mouth with force and started thrusting into it in a fast, filthy rhythm.

Completely overwhelmed, Bilbo could do nothing against this onslaught but utter a high, continuous whine. He raised one leg to Thorin's hip in the unconscious attempt to get their bodies closer together. After a while, Thorin shifted his arms, tongue still forcefully penetrating the hobbits mouth, gripped both of Bilbo's thighs, and in a show of strength that made Bilbo’s whine stop together with his breathing, lifted the hobbit straight off the ground, slamming him into the wall again with his entire body, their groins connecting roughly through their clothing. Bilbo's legs locked over Thorin's arse, who broke the kiss to look at Bilbo's face for the first time since this started.

Bilbo looked completely wrecked. His mouth was red and swollen, his breathing uncontrollably ragged, his eyes wet and wild. “Thorin...” he croaked, his voice breaking, and bowed his head to bury this face into Thorin's shoulder, and he felt the little body’s trembling become stronger and his voice broke further and further, now groaning out Thorin's name again and again like a chant.

Thorin’s erection was painfully hard, and he thrust it against Bilbo’s with increasing speed and force. He knew that he would leave bruises, but Bilbo seemed very far past caring. It only took him about half a dozen thrusts when he felt every muscle in Bilbo's body tighten intensely, and the broken chanting turned into a short, loud shriek as Thorin felt wetness spread through both their layers of clothing

By this point, Thorin knew that he would really have to come himself very soon, or risk bursting something, but Bilbo's frame had gone entirely limp and was becoming rather hard to hold up against the wall like this. With a sigh, Thorin lifted the almost unconscious hobbit higher onto his hips and carried him over to the bed and threw him on the covers. He looked utterly destroyed lying there panting, red faced and dishevelled with a growing wet patch over his groin, slowly closing his eyes. “Oh no you will not!” Thorin growled and Bilbo's eyes snapped wide open again. “You will not fall asleep until I’m finished with you.” He then lowered himself onto the bed over Bilbo, thrust his trousers down just far enough to bare his cock, angled it at the already wet hobbit and started to pump himself.

Bilbo was barely coherent enough to understand much of what was going on, but he did make the effort to reach up into Thorin's hair with both hands and pull his head down for a kiss, this time with more participation on his part. Thorin let the hobbit kiss him as he sped up his strokes, feeling the liquid heat build in his belly until he reached his release at last, coming in fat wet ropes across Bilbo's stomach and chest.

Panting with exertion and relieved tension, and too tired for now to debate consequences, Thorin just lay down on his side, drew Bilbo to him back to front, and let himself follow the hobbit into sleep.


	3. Aftermath

When Bilbo woke up the next morning, the first thing he was aware of was that his sleeping clothes were sticking to his entire front side. Why on earth had he kept them on? Now he had to find a way to wash them discreetly, without having to explain himself to the other dwarves, or even worse, to the elves. He shuddered with embarrassment. And not for the last time that day.

Finally coming completely awake, he also noticed that he was sore with bruises all over and the feeling of having been overrun by a cart. He also found the cart responsible, still asleep beside him, snoring loudly and having one arm still thrown over his side. Slowly he replayed the memory of the last night. He had really not known what to expect when he knocked on Thorin's door, or what he could hope would happen, but the looks he was getting from the leader of the company seemed explicit enough to promise some progress. He had definitely planned on playing it cool, feigning disinterest before finding out where they now stood. However, he had completely underestimated the extent of the grip that Thorin already had on him. He had been aroused by him on a number of occasions by now, and he knew that the attraction was very strong, but when Thorin had pushed him into the wall and had proceeded to fuck his mouth with his tongue, all pretence of aloofness and all hope for any kind of self control had gone right out. He had just let himself be taken, completely overrun by the ecstasy of the moment, and by the time the thought entered his mind that he really did not want to climax so soon, before Thorin did, still dressed, just lifted against a wall, and before he had gotten to do any of the things he had wanted to do, he had already come into his clothes like a tween. And as if that wasn’t bad enough, he then had to fall unconscious almost immediately, and he vaguely remembered managing to kiss Thorin weakly and register the wetness splattering on him from above before he knew no more.

This was getting worse by the minute. Thorin would be awake soon and Bilbo did not want to face him right now. He also did not fancy the walk of shame in his current condition of disarray, in a house of elves no less, but there didn’t seem to be much of an alternative.

Just as he had screwed himself up to move, Thorin’s arm around his waist tightened, effectively pinning him back down. Bilbo cursed under his breath and tried to wriggle out of his grasp. Just as he was sure he couldn’t do it without waking him, there was a sharp rap at the door that did the job for him. Thorin immediately sat straight up, only briefly disoriented by finding a hobbit in his bed and then quickly jumped up and to the door. As Thorin opened to whoever stood on the other side, Bilbo decided to just take the cowardly path and drew the blanket over his head, trying to hide. He could hear Thorin speak in low tones with someone at the door and just thought he had gotten out free when he heard Thorin say “ Very well, Baggins and I will join you shortly.” Bilbo groaned. When the door closed, he sat up to and glared at Thorin. “Was that really necessary?”  
Thorin just looked at him with a blank expression. “What?”  
“Ah, never mind” Bilbo grumbled, climbing out of bed and grimacing at the condition of his sleepwear. Thorin was still watching him with some curiosity, but luckily seemed disinclined to ask again. All he did was toss Bilbo some of his own underwear, which was very gratefully received. “Go get washed and dressed. Apparently we are obliged to breakfast with our hosts today.”


	4. Trial and Error

Breakfast was, predictably, a rather uncomfortable experience. Dwarves are not renowned for for being shy, and Bilbo got the feeling that they were talking turns making lewd gestures at him all throughout the meal. Still, he had expected this and was grateful that the elves at least seemed oblivious – or above comment.

The day after that was blessedly quiet. It had been decided that the company would stay for two more nights in order to recuperate, repair their gear and stock up on food for the venture. Bilbo tried to stay out of everyones way as best he could. He could not quite fathom what Thorin thought of last night, if he would even want a repeat, and how they stood now, especially since Bilbo had not shown himself at his best performance.

So he spent the day wandering around the halls of the last homely house, listening to elves sing and talk in their beautiful language. When evening fell and the company had finished dinner, Bilbo was rather surprised to find himself once more standing outside Thorin’s quarters. He stood there for quite some time, telling himself to just walk away and try to forget about it, and that standing here any longer would only get him into trouble, when Thorin opened the door and nearly ran over the hobbit still standing on the step.  
“What are you doing here?” he asked gruffly.  
“Nothing, sorry, I don’t know, I’m sorry...” Bilbo stuttered and moved to turn away, only to find a strong, calloused hand close around his arm, stopping him. “Do you want to come in, Bilbo?” Bilbo didn’t react at first, feigning interest in his feet, but blushing to the tips of his ears. “Oh, for pity’s sake...” Thorin grumbled and pulled the halfling inside, shutting the door behind him.

Bilbo was really unsure what to do now. He had very firmly decided not to try seducing Thorin again, seeing how it had gone last night and how Thorin must be rather disappointed with him, but now he had been pulled into his bedchamber by the dwarf himself and stood there, entirely unsure of what was expected of him.  
“Why have you been avoiding me today?” Thorin asked suddenly, but not unkindly.  
“Well, I was under the impression you might want me out of your way...” Bilbo stammered, still looking at his feet.  
“And what indication have I given that I would want that? Did you feel I wanted you out of my way last night?”  
”I don’t know, Thorin, I’m sorry...”  
“Halfling, stop apologising. I don’t know how this” he gestured between them both “came around, and what it will lead to in the end, but I for my part have no family obligations forbidding me from indulging, save of course the priority of my quest in all matters. I trust the same is true for you. I find that the distraction you pose is lessened if we indulge in this” he gestured again “from time to time. If you are willing.”

Bilbo stared at Thorin. Seeing as he seemed to be expected to give an answer, he just nodded dumbly. Bad idea or not, he was not going to turn down an offer like that, no matter how unsuited he felt. With a grunt of acknowledgement, Thorin walked over to the bed, still holding Bilbo by the arm, drawing him along.

Thorin sat down on the edge of the bed and drew Bilbo onto his lap. He then started to undo the bindings of Bilbo’s shirt, who started to feel the heat rise inside himself again. This time, he decided, he would not be caught of guard by it like last time. This time he would manage to keep himself in check long enough. He started to get Thorin’s leather jerkin and the linnen shirt underneath off as well, so that they where soon both bare from the waist up, and the sight caught his breath. Thorin’s chest and shoulders where thickly muscled and he had a dense black pelt covering his chest and trailing invitingly down over his belly and into his trousers. Bilbo found that he loved sinking his fingers into it, as it felt much softer than it looked, in contrast to the coarseness of his beard. At the same time Thorin started to run his hands across Bilbo’s back and sides, before running them up his chest and across his nipples, stroking his fingers over them repeatedly until they stood up delicately.

Looking down, Bilbo saw the distension of his trousers was matched by Thorin’s, and that was where everything started to go wrong. Thorin pulled him forward, so that their chests connected, as did the tips or their cocks. It was not enough to give any real friction, but the feeling of Thorin’s broad chest against his, so much contact on his skin, the overwhelmingly male smell of leather, steel and musky spice suddenly filling Bilbo’s nostrils and the immediacy and reality of the situation hit him hard. Before he knew what was happening, he could feel his sack draw up and panic flooded him. No no no, not again no... He struggled to move back, away from the dangerous contact, when he made the mistake of looking into Thorin’s eyes. They where almost completely black, shadowed by his brows and nearly consumed by his distended pupils and yet they burned with a passion and heat Bilbo had not ever seen before in any living creature. And with that, he was done. He tried clamping the muscles of his pelvis, but it was already to late, his climax tearing through him, painful in its intensity. His struggling against Thorin’s grip turned to spasms in his arms and back and he heard his own voice crying out as from a distance, before he sagged back in on himself.

He screwed his eyes shut in shame and tried to twist out of Thorin’s grip. “I’m sorry...” he whispered, his voice breaking. But Thorin did not let go, but instead drew Bilbo back against his chest, and humming in a quiet, but continuous tone that Bilbo could feel more than hear. “I’m sorry Thorin, I really didn’t want to...” Thorin just wrapped his arms around Bilbo’s shoulders, held him close and hummed. Eventually, though the shame did not diminish, all strength left him and he just sagged against Thorin and hid his face against his shoulder.

“Don’t fret, halfling. Do you think I do not like the effect I have on you? But you simply lack practice in controlling yourself. These things can be mended. If you have patience, I will show you.” Bilbo just pressed himself closer into the dwarven pelt and let himself be held, until he drifted off in exhaustion.


	5. practice

The next day started rather late. Even dwarves used to travel and hardship enjoyed sleeping late, and hobbits did so especially, so it was no longer morning when the company met once again for breakfast. During the meal the further procedure for the journey was decided and there was some talk about the planned road and what provisions to bring. Bilbo found himself only half listening to these discussions, as he knew that he would have little to contribute, given his lack of experience. It was decided that they would remain in Rivendell for one more day and leave for the mountains with the first light of the next, using the remaining time to get as much rest as they could.

After the meal, the company went about packing. Bilbo was on his way to the the hall where he had left his own backpack, when he was intercepted by Thorin. “This is the last day of some leisure and comfort we will have for considerable time. I would ask you to spend it with me” he said, placing one hand lightly on Bilbo’s shoulder, and without waiting for an answer, steered him back towards the chamber they had shared for the last two nights.

Upon entering again, Thorin went to sit on the bed and gave Bilbo an appraising look. “I said I could try to teach you some control. This seems like a good opportunity. Take off your clothes.” Flustered by the abruptness of the request, Bilbo found himself taking a few involuntary steps toward the bed, nerves and a rising heat warring inside him. It felt very strange to think of doing this in broad daylight, but something about how real it felt was rather delightfully dirty, knowing that everyone around them was up and about, and would be able to hear them if they were to walk past the door. He could now no longer pretend that what they were doing only lived in the hidden and dreamlike darkness of the night.

Thorin was still steadily looking at him, waiting patiently, and so he started to undress. He shivered now and again as the cool air met his skin and when he felt Thorin’s eyes on new parts of his body. Finally, he was completely undressed save for his small-clothes that he could not quite bring himself to remove, standing unsurely in the middle of the room. Seeing his hesitation, Thorin gestured for him to come closer, and Bilbo came to stand in front of him, where Thorin started stroking his flanks gently, until his hands travelled over his belly and down to the developing bulge in his underwear. He then loosened the bindings and soon Bilbo was standing naked and completely exposed, half hard and shivering under the intense stare of darkening eyes.

After what seemed like an eternity under that gaze Thorin at last reached behind himself and brought out a slim length of soft leather and held it up for Bilbo to see. “You will wear this. It will aid you in restraining yourself.” And before Bilbo could ask, Thorin bound the leather strap around the base of his cock and around his balls, effectively preventing them from drawing up. It would not make coming impossible, but difficult and painful. Bilbo hoped that it would help.

Thorin then stood and gripping Bilbo by the shoulders turned him around and sat him on the bed, so that their positions were reversed. He then stripped of his outer clothing and his undershirt until he was standing bare but for his linnen breeches and Bilbo now found himself staring at the magnificence of Thorin’s almost naked body, muscular and compact, deliciously furred and showing his own growing bulge.

Bilbo drew himself fully onto the bed and scurried backward until he hit the headboard and Thorin followed slowly, on his hand and knees, until he was poised above Bilbo’s shivering form. He then lowered his head down until he was kissing Bilbo’s throat and started mouthing down, over his Adam’s apple to his clavicle, sometimes licking and biting softly, further down over his chest until he reached a nipple, which he took between his lips, increasing the pressure more and more until Bilbo was panting and writhing. He could feel himself grow fully hard, the pressure of the leather strap a constant reminder, and although he could feel his sack tightening, it was effectively held down. He groaned deeply and let himself sink into the sensation of Thorin’s mouth and now his hands, exploring all over his body, sometimes gently, sometimes with more force, but always avoiding his cock, until he was almost drowning in the contact, feeling waves of pleasure wash over him, but never quite succumbing.

Suddenly the hands and mouth left him, and Bilbo found that he had closed his eyes without even realising he had done so. Slowly opening them he looked up at Thorin and saw that he was flushed in the most beautiful shade of dark red across his cheeks, and that his eyes were half shut, looking languidly down at him. Thorin then lent away, until he was lying back, propped up on his elbows and motioned for Bilbo to come to him. With some difficulty he managed to regain control of his watery limbs and sat up. All nervousness and shyness had left him, he felt flooded with heat and incapable of coherent thought as he in turn crawled over Thorin’s impressive form and started his own exploration. He started with running his hands over Thorin’s face, who sighed and let his eyes drop shut. Bilbo then went on with his own mouth, kissing down the side of Thorin’s throat, kissing over his beard and letting his hands run down over his chest, thumbing over the small hard nippled he found among the hair, drawing another sigh. He then stroked down over Thorin’s belly with his hands and mouth, pausing briefly to nibble at the navel and then continued further until he came upon the now fully formed bulge and he pressed his mouth against it through the fabric, drawing a low groan which made his gut tighten and the leather strap cut into him more firmly. He breathed in deeply, taking in the primal smell, clean and heady at the same time, and suddenly he felt intense shudders run all through him and he felt the pressure inside him spike upward like a cramp and he had to turn away, panting frantically and gripping at Thorin’s hip hard. The leather strap had started to hurt and for a moment he felt the beginning of his climax building. Then he felt one of Thorin’s hand in his hair and heard his voice from far away, penetrating the haze that seems to lie on him. “Breathe, halfling, take slow deep breaths if you can. Just ride it out.”

Bilbo did as he was told and found that it did indeed help with the immediate pressure, even if it did nothing against his growing desire to just give up and come. To distract himself he turned his face toward the hand that was still stroking his hair. It was broad and coarse, callused and rough, and Bilbo thought that he had never seen a hand more beautiful. With a gentleness that contrasted its hardiness he licked across the palm and up the thumb, drawing it into his mouth, sucking on it and swirling his tongue across the pad. This drew a loud gasp from above, causing him to look up. His eyes met with Thorin’s and both gasped again at the sight, dark and stormy eyes looking down, face drawn with desire, bright and innocent eyes looking up through their lashes, in exquisite contrast to the filthy gesture of the mouth. Once again Bilbo felt the peak approach, and he screwed his eyes shut against the image and let the thumb fall from his mouth to consciously breathe again, regaining control.

After a moment, when Bilbo felt more like himself, he turned to Thorin’s groin again. With shaking but nimble fingers he undid the straps that held the trousers up and drew down the garment. Thorin’s cock was very well suited to the rest of him. Not much longer than Bilbo’s own, but quite a bit thicker, it stood straight up, dark with blood, nested in thick black hair. Tentatively, Bilbo reached out to touch it, and was surprised at how hard it was, like smooth skin over a bar of steel. As his hand closed around it he heard Thorin’s voice growling and his breathing growing heavy. The need to hear more of those sounds overcame him and he lent down to close his mouth over the fat head, sliding down the length as far as he could before it hit the back of his throat. Thorin’s growls where getting louder and Bilbo started to suck, bobbing his head as Thorin’s voice cracked as he moaned. He then took Thorin’s sack in hand, squeezing gently and feeling it tighten as he drew closer. Bilbo felt two rough hands digging into his hair, not directing his movements more than holding on to something, and Bilbo started to shake, the heat threatening to peak. He felt everything tighten again, painfully against the leather strap, making him groan. “Take it off now, Bilbo” Thorin whispered in a broken voice and he reached down, fumbling with the binding. Getting it loose at last he felt the rush of blood in his cock, he plunged down on Thorin’s as far as he could and then they were coming. Hot, musky flavour exploded in his mouth as he heard that voice shout out and he did his best to swallow it all, but it was too much and part of it ran back out, down over Thorin’s twitching cock, staining that dark nest of hair. In that moment all of Bilbo’s blood seemed to leave his head, leaving him almost insensate with ecstasy, white light exploding behind his eyelids as white hot liquid shot out of him like fire.

After a while, Bilbo could not tell how long, he almost felt as if awakening from unconsciousness. He found that he was lying with his head on Thorin’s hip, Thorin’s hand still stroking his hair, and as he slowly regained the feeling of himself he also felt an exquisite heaviness in his bones. He looked up at Thorin and found him smiling down and then drawing him up until he half lay on his chest, where he collapsed again, drifting off.  
In his half-sleep he could hear Thorin’s deep chuckle. “Sleep then, halfling, you did very well. I will wake you in a while, and then we can practice again.”


	6. Quick Update

A quick update for the subscribers. I love you guys!

Well, it appears I am back. I kind of abandoned this series a year ago, mainly because writing is a fickle thing for me, and it just didn’t happen. But now I want to try and make it happen again. The original idea of the series has somewhat been scrapped, mainly because I can’t be arsed to search through the entire encyclopedic Kinkmeme for suitable prompts, but also because I want to aim for more narrative coherence (hurhur) this time.

 

But now it goes on. More kinks, more pairings, more porn-plot. But I promise there will be no Non-Con.

 

Now I really can’t say how far this will go plotwise, but if I do come to the end, I promise that no one we like will die. This is my happy place of rainbows, unicorns and kinkyness and I am still swimming up the river de Nile on that particular plotpoint. Other than that I’ll follow the movies, or the book, or my own headcanon where it suits me. Let’s just see what happens, shall we?


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